


Friday Afternoon

by Lempo Soi (Lemposoi)



Series: Nights and Days [4]
Category: due South
Genre: Family, Future Fic, Happy Ending, M/M, POV Male Character, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Wordcount: 100-2.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-17
Updated: 2011-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 20:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemposoi/pseuds/Lempo%20Soi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser is coming home from the territories. The Rays scramble to shuffle schedules. Ray-Ray has some ice cream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spuffyduds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/gifts).



> Written for the I Saw Three Ships challenge and Spuffyduds.

No problem at all. Had he actually said, 'No problem at all'? Ray Vecchio slammed the receiver down on the phone and cursed.

"Frannie, do you have the file on the Wen Ma case?" he called.

"Still not your secretary," Frannie snapped from the desk adjacent to his, not turning around. She was scanning a database of booking photos on her computer.

"Just look on your desk, Frannie!"

"Don't tell me what to do, Ray!"

Ray stood up, knocking his chair back so hard it clanked loudly against the cabinet, and walked the two steps over, shuffling through the pile on Frannie's desk. Wen Ma's was at the top. "I don't suppose it's any use asking you to drop by the bank on West Wacker Drive and talk to his co-workers?"

"Ray, I've still got to compile the list of matches for the Elm and Dearborn burglar description, and after that I've got about fifteen witnesses to show it to. There's no way."

"Look, I've got to pick up Fraser from the station at 2:30. He says he needs the car, which probably means he brought half of Canada back with him, 'cause anything less he'd just carry. It's already getting to 2pm."

"Can't Kowalski pick him up?"

"With what? Wake up, Frannie! We only have one car! The Toyota exploded two months ago, remember? Besides, he's picking up Ray-Ray at 2:30. We're supposed to meet for Ben & Jerry's down the street from the pre-school."

"Then call Fraser and tell him to get a bus! God! Just do your job, Ray!"

"He hasn't got a phone!" Ray shouted, but then stopped dead. He had an idea.

He looked across the semi-empty station, and sure enough, there was the sleeve of a familiar grey suit. "Hey, Huey!" he called. "Guess what, buddy? It's your lucky day!"

*

Ray Kowalski stared at the three-car pile-up with a sinking feeling.

No-one seemed seriously hurt, though one driver was sitting by the side of the road holding her head. First aid personnel was on the scene and everything seemed under control, but the traffic was stopped dead. The accident had taken place in an intersection. Ray's bus was stuck behind a jam that was five cars ahead of them and about two hundred behind. Just five cars, and they would've made it.

"Can't you take a way around?" he asked the driver, though he already knew the answer.

"Sorry," the driver grunted. "You'd be better off walking."

The pre-school was on the other side of the city and it was already 2pm. That morning, Ray-Ray had made him promise seven separate times that they'd be there on time to meet Fraser as soon as they could.

But, no. It wasn't as bleak as that. All he had to do was traverse the jam on foot and see what public transport could do for him beyond.

If they didn't come up with flying cars in the next decade, Ray decided, mankind would be doomed.

*

Fraser watched the urban landscapes slide outside the window, turn into natural vistas, and slip back to concrete. The sweet old lady he had swapped recipes and hunting stories for the first half of the journey was snoring gently, her head tilted back against the window.

It had been easy for him to settle back into the slower rhythm of the countryside, if only for a while. A part of him already wanted to go back; but another part, the greater one, couldn't wait to be back in Chicago. It wasn't easy having your heart split up into two halves along the Arctic line. At least, he thought, he'd brought something of his other home back this time.

He looked up at the luggage shelf and the large item wedged there, almost half of it jutting off the shelf.

*

"Tell me again why I'm taking on your high-level fraud case," Huey said as he flipped through the Wen Ma file, sitting on the Riviera's passenger seat. "The one with political connections that could lead to one of the biggest corruption cases the city's seen since the '70s — the case you've been busting your ass on all year?"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Ray said as he steered the car around in heavy traffic. An accident downtown was creating knots of traffic jams across the city. It took effort and and an excellent traffic newscast not to get sucked into one. "It's all there. The evidence against Terence Jayasuriya had to be fabricated because of the consistent misspelling of his name in the forged signatures. I checked his previous work and the man does not misspell, certainly not his own name. When you put it in context, it all points to the bank manager as the mastermind."

"Wen Ma. Impressive political background, comes from a banking family. Republican. Retired from politics in 1993 after a gay scandal ruined his hopes for a senate seat. Sounds right up your alley, eh, Ray? You know this guy?"

"Funny man," Ray said. "Yeah, I know him through the national cocksuckers' association. We have annual dinners and a duty roster. What do you think?"

Huey raised his eyebrows but turned back to the file, muttering something that sounded like 'touchy'. Ray decided to let it go this time. It was already 2:21.

*

Ray Kowalski jumped off the back of the back of the van, his eyes stinging slightly from the smoke. "Thanks, guys. Angus, Tony." He waved at the pair of Australian boys.

Ever since the 70s, he'd had a rule — only ever hitch rides with hippies. The Aussies looked more like lumberjacks crossed with Jonas brothers, but with that much pot stashed in the back, Ray figured they qualified. A small part of him — the part that won commendations — regretted the fact he'd just let probable drug dealers get away, but the more substantial part just appreciated hippies. Of all criminals, pot-smoking hippies littered the least and almost never held you at knife-point.

He'd asked them to park around the corner, and decided to wait a moment in the blast of summer wind, if only to get the smell off, then  
checked his watch — 2:31pm — and walked around the corner towards the preschool.

*

"I do understand," said Fraser apologetically. "I did request a space in the storage van but I was told they were full—"

"That's no goddamn excuse to bring a moose skull into the passenger van," the conductor growled. "How did you even get this thing in?"

"I assure you, if you just tilt it to the left a little bit, it will be easy to manoeuvre it around the corner, as long as you don't get snagged on the— oh dear…"

The conductor pushed and shoved at the skull, but it seemed firmly stuck. She rattled it.

"Ma'am, you'll notice that one of the antlers has caught on the bathroom door handle."

The conductor threw the skull on the floor, but it hung in the air between the door and the opposite wall. "I give up. You get this thing out right now or I'm getting the emergency axe. We're two minutes behind schedule because of this sh— predicament. Sir!" She spat the last word out like a curse. Fraser worried briefly about her blood pressure and raised his hands in supplication.

"Please allow me, Ma'am."

He picked up the skull, unhooked the antler from the bathroom door, tilted it to the left, and manoeuvred it delicately out of the train.

"Thank you kindly for your assistance, Ma'am, and my apologies once more." He nodded, picked up his duffel bag, and moved on.

*

2:40, and Ray Vecchio couldn't see Fraser anywhere. He'd only been five minutes late.

"You can't have missed him," he told a gangly station agent, who gave him a blank stare in return. "Tall, good-looking, forty-five years old but looks ten years younger, probably wearing a bright red Mountie uniform."

Something seemed to twig in the young man's mind. "A Mountie?"

"Yes! Have you seen him? He was on the 2:30 train."

"He wasn't wearing any uniform." The station agent frowned.

"He would at least be wearing the hat."

"He was wearing the hat, yeah," said the station agent.

"Great. We're getting there," Ray said patiently. "Where did he go?"

"Told him he couldn't stay in here with that thing, not in the crowds. Big thing like that, it'd poke people's eyes out."

"What thing?"

"The moose skull."

"The… moose… skull."

"Yeah. Giant!"

Ray sighed. "Okay. Right. Giant moose skull. That's Fraser all right. Which direction did he go?"

*

Rayanne Fraser stared at her Chunky Monkey bowl reproachfully. "I wanted the big one," she insisted.

"Honey, we've had this talk before," Ray Kowalski said. "You say you want the big one, then you have about half as much of it as it would take to make one small one, and then complain it's too cold, because you don't want to admit you couldn't handle a big one. Didn't think I'd caught on yet, huh?"

"Where's Daddy and Ray? They said they'd be here."

"'Where are Daddy and Ray,' not 'Where is Daddy and Ray.' They're on their way."

Ray-Ray sighed theatrically and started the ritual of separating the peanuts from the ice cream and the chocolate monkeys. Ray checked his watch. 3:02pm.

*

"Ray, the road," Fraser said, but kissed Ray Vecchio again quickly. An antler was poking out of a rolled down backseat window, which meant they were already uncomfortably close to being in violation of traffic regulations without a driver who was making out instead of keeping his eyes on the road.

*

"Any time now, honey."

"You said that ten minutes ago!"

"More like six. Check your watch."

"My watch says ten."

"You can't read the time, can you?"

"Can too! It's already 7pm."

"No it isn't."

"It's 7:30."

"Don't lie, Ray-Ray." Ray peered out the ice cream bar window at the street, scanning the road for a flash of the familiar shade of green. It was starting to drizzle. He'd just flipped open his cellphone when he saw them. His face broke out in a grin.

*

"I can't believe you brought her an actual moose skull," Ray Vecchio said. He was still sweating mildly from the effort of helping to carry the enormous thing up into their four room apartment on the third floor. It was now mounted on the living room wall and dominated it easily. "What's wrong with a plushie?"

"Ray," said Fraser, his voice conveying a touch of disappointment, "you know how I feel about the tourist industry's reliance on non-recyclable materials. Besides, this is a part of Ontario history, and so it's part of Ray-Ray's history, too."

"Are you saying this skull is sacred to the Inuit or something?"

"No, Ray," Fraser said, taken aback. "I wouldn't have taken it if it had been."

"Save it for a bedtime story," Ray said and kissed him on the cheek. "It's late and it's my night to cook." He headed across the living room towards the kitchen.

"Everything all right?" Fraser called softly to Kowalski, who was crooning something and rocking the tired Ray-Ray in his arms. He looked up and flashed him that smile.

"Perfect."

Fraser sat next to him and settled his head against his bony shoulder. He let the crooning of one Ray at his side and the clanking of pans by another in the kitchen lull him. The long hours on the train began to fall away. It was good to be home.


End file.
